


When the Snow Melts into Spring

by youalwaysfollowthehose



Category: Captain America (2011), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youalwaysfollowthehose/pseuds/youalwaysfollowthehose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pairing: StevexPeggy (platonic) </p>
<p>Pre Avengers: Newly awoken from the ice and trying to figure out his place in modern day society Steve Rogers pays the ailing Peggy Carter a visit at the nursing home where she now lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Snow Melts into Spring

**Author's Note:**

> This story can also be read over at my [tumblr](http://youalwaysfollowthehose.tumblr.com/)and [FF.net](http://www.fanfiction.net/~youalwaysfollowthehose). Lyrics at the end portion of this fanfic come from _[“How Deep is the Ocean?”](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fuGwCRYPNtA)_ I recommend you listen to that song while reading. All critique and comments are welcomed, I’m trying to become a better writer. This is my first fanfic in a very long time so please point out any OOC or any other issues. I really hope you enjoy reading.

Time seemed to slow down in New York over winter. The roads became flanked by deep piles of greying slush and people edged along the pavement clutching coffee cups to their chests. Thin wisps of vapour from rose from mouths, noses and cappuccinos and floated around like spectres. Flickering Christmas lights in shop fronts mingled together, turning the fogged up windows into watercolour washes. Through the mist, across the skyline, Stark Tower watched over the sluggish city. 

In the midst of this Steve Rogers walked. The people in the streets did pay any special attention to him as they hailed cabs or wondered which place to head to for lunch. To them he was just another of the arty, student types who frequented the city. 

Since he’d woken up in a S.H.I.E.L.D facility two months ago he’d made his walk around the New York streets a daily event. It wasn’t that the apartment he’d been provided with wasn’t nice – it was. A spacious top loft with views all over the city was more than he needed, but seemingly never ending chains of punching bags and silence can’t solve everything. He needed to get outside, figure out this new time and try and wrap his head around how everything had changed. Most days he spent his time aimlessly wandering, seeing how the city had changed. Occasionally he stopped off at the city library and spent of few hours reading up on historic and scientific advances; at the rate he was going pop culture was still a good few months away. When the days were fair, Steve sat at some anonymous kerbside cafe that still labelled coffee as either with milk or without and drank and drew the surrounding scenery in silence. 

However, today he wasn’t just mindlessly wandering, he had a mission. Nick Fury called him up a few days ago to say if he wanted to meet with Peggy Carter she was in a retirement home in the city. Through the phone the Director’s voice sounded solemn. 

“Don’t expect her to remember you Rogers, her memory has been failing her for years now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he’d asked. 

“We’re trying to ease you in slowly Cap, not give you too much information at once.”

Steve spent the rest of the evening destroying another S.H.I.E.L.D issue punching bag. 

He went on to ask about the situation of the rest of the Howling Commandos: locations, family, then after a pause, graves. Fury said he didn’t know, after the War most of them had fallen off the radar but he’d attempt to find out. 

Now Steve was standing in front of a tall, unassuming building. A small silver plaque above the doorway was the only indication that this was the home where Peggy Carter now resided. Fury had reassured him that this was the best place for her and that she was being well looked after. Steve kicked flecks of snow off his boots on the doorstep, took a deep breath and pushed open the door. 

The entrance led into a large open foyer. A desk was located at the far end, behind which a small young woman with pulled back hair and bookish glasses sat. The smell of Christmassy spices mixed with the tang of disinfectant filled his nose. A middle-aged man pushed an elder in a wheelchair through the space. Steve smiled at them as they passed; he removed his scarf and headed over to the desk. 

The young woman smiled as he approached. 

“Hello, I haven’t seen you around here before,” she said. “How can I help?” 

“I’m here to see Peggy Carter; sorry it’s kind of a last minute visit.” 

The woman’s face fell; Steve’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Oh, she’ll be happy about that. She only usually gets a visit from her niece every month or so. She seems like a lovely girl, always seems so occupied with work though.”

“I’ve been out of town for a while. I thought I’d stop in.” 

The young woman looked up. 

“It’ll be nice to be back in New York then.” She paused. “Sorry did I get your name? I’ll have to put you in the visitor book.” 

“Captain Steve Rogers,” he stated. 

The woman’s face lit up slightly in realisation.

“Ahh, military. Is that how you know Peggy? She used to be in the army, she doesn’t talk about it much though.” 

Steve looked up at the high ceiling, unsure of how to present their relationship. 

“We’re just...” He paused. “Old friends.” 

“Oh nice,” The woman closed the visitor book. “She’ll be upstairs in the lounge on the fourth floor; the elevator is just over there.” 

Steve nodded in gratitude. 

“Thank you, miss.” 

He headed off towards the elevator and rode up to the fourth floor. Steve wondered whether he should have brought something, flowers maybe. Even so, he didn’t know what she liked; during the war there was more talk of what tactics to use to hit the next Hydra base than things like that. 

The lift bell dinged and the doors opened onto a large, light filled room. Steve glanced around at the figures seated on armchairs around the room. Some were playing chess, other reading, watching television, or just looked out across the world outside. He could help but feel that he should be among them. 

Steve glanced around the room again; he didn’t recognise Peggy amongst them. 

“Who are you looking for, sir?” 

Steve turned to see a tall man wearing a nurse’s uniform.

“Oh, Peggy Carter. I’m sorry, it’s my first visit.”

The man pointed over to a slender woman sitting in a floral print armchair near the large window. Her hair was the colour of snow and she appeared smaller than he’d remembered. 

“That’s her,” he said. 

Steve walked over to the woman, even in her elder years she still had an air of beauty and power about her. He wondered how much she had changed her lifetime and how much of that had trickled away. She turned as he approached, a look of confusion passed over her face.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice had a slightly harsh tone to it. 

Steve slowly sat down into the armchair next to her. 

“My name is Steve Rogers; we used to know each other.” 

She looked him up and down, no note of recognition passed over her face. 

“Sorry I don’t recognise you.” 

Steve reached out and touched her arm gently, inside his heart was sinking. 

“It’s okay; it was a long time ago.” 

Peggy smiled weakly, her eyes screamed anxiety and confusion but deep down Steve could see her brain working as she tried to make sense of the situation. She looked him up and down again, slower this time.

“You have really nice eyes,” she told him. “Eyes of a good and honest man.” 

That was all Steve really needed to hear, a tide of emotion rose up within him. His mind turned back to the forties, the smell of fresh snow and gunpowder; misinterpreted words and the crack in Peggy’s voice during his last moments. All he wanted was the woman in front of him to remember, say she moved on and lived a happy life. Instead she just turned away from him and watched the snow fall in thick flurries onto the street below. Steve followed her gaze and looked across the New York skyline slowly disappearing in a blanket of white. 

“Snow always reminds me of waiting,” Peggy said after a while. “Back in the war, I waited outside the old Stork Club for hours until my feet went numb.” She paused and turned back to face Steve, frustration crumpled her features. “I – I don’t remember what I was waiting for. Someone special I think, I don’t know if he ever turned up.” 

A lump formed in Steve throat, he pushed passed it and carried on with the conversation. 

“So the Stork Club, that’s where people go to dance, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, dancing,” Peggy looked up at the ceiling, almost as if swing bands, crowded halls and endless seas of uniforms and multicoloured dresses mingling together materialised there. 

“So you like to dance?” Steve asked, tentatively 

Peggy smiled. 

“It never seemed to feel right to me,” she nodded slowly. “A man I used to know said it was about finding the right partner.” 

Steve bit down on his bottom lip. 

“I know that feeling.” 

He didn’t, he’d never got a chance to find out.

Peggy laughed softly, the snow outside eased up a little. 

“So, umm,” Steve carried on. “Do still like to dance.” 

“I won’t be very good,” she stretched in the chair. “It’s been a while.” 

A smile passed over Steve’s face. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t know how to dance either,” he said. “I’ll try not to step on your toes.” 

Steve stood up, held out a hand to Peggy. She slapped it away. 

“I’m not completely incapable.” 

“Okay then.” 

He was pleased she hadn’t lost her spirit; it was nice to see a flash of the old Peggy again.

She rose slowly from the chair with a groan. Once she was up Steve took her hands in his. Her skin was soft and wrinkled underneath his fingertips. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to watch them form and fold like an old book ages in the sun. How would things have been different if the jet hadn’t been filled with bombs? What would it have felt like to watch the city and time change around them? Today would they both be walking ankle deep in Central Park, smiling against the cold in the happiness that time had been good to them? 

“We don’t have any music.” Peggy brought him out of his daydream, back to reality. 

Steve looked around, trying to spot a radio or something but in vain. 

“I’ll hum something,” he said. “I know a few songs.” 

Peggy smiled and laid her head against his chest. Steve began to hum a tune under his breath and started to move in time to the music. She followed his lead, her slippers made tiny scuffing noises against the carpet, a soft beat. They swayed back and forth; Steve peeked over his shoulder to see all the eyes of the others in the room on them. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks. 

“I remember this song,” Peggy whispered, her voice partially muffled against his leather jacket. “ _How much do I love you?”_ She sang softly, her voice trailed off after the first line. 

_“I’ll tell you no lie_ ,” Steve carried on, his voice cracked halfway through the line. He took her hand and gently led her into a turn. A smile broke out on Peggy’s face and her laugh lines deepened. 

_“How deep is the ocean_?” She sang through giggles. 

_“How high is the sky_?” Steve’s smile widened as nostalgia filled him. It started to feel natural. He turned her around again, taking extra care not to step on her. 

_“How many times a day?”_

_“Do I think of you?”_

A light had returned to Peggy’s eyes, the same one Steve had noticed when she saw him come back from liberating the first Hydra base. 

_“How many_ , ahh da doo. I forget after that bit.” 

“Umm,” Steve looked upwards trying to remember the line. _“Roses are sprinkled with dew..._ ” 

She laughed at that and spun around of her own accord. Her flowered skirt spun around her ankles and strands of hair escaped her bun, flopping over her face. 

“How do you even know that song, a young man like you?” 

Steve shrugged and genteelly brought her hand up to kiss her knuckles. 

“Parents.” 

That wasn’t a lie. “I don’t know it that well,” he laughed. “I can’t remember the rest of it if my life depended on it.” 

Distracted, he stepped on her toe with the edge of his boot. He mumbled a quick apology. Peggy just laughed again and kicked him in the ankle. 

“Well good job it doesn’t then.” 

They danced for a little while longer after that, until Peggy’s breathing came in wheezes. They both still smiled as they settled themselves back into the armchairs. Outside, the snow fell in light flakes that danced a solitary waltz down from the sky. The sun peaked out weakly from behind the skyscrapers. 

Peggy looked distant as she watched the flakes fall lighter and lighter until they eased to nothing. 

“Steve?” 

“Yes?”

“You know around March, when the snow finally melts into spring and you look around outside and feel like you’ve been waiting for this moment your whole life?”

Steve turned to look at her. 

“Mmhm?”

“That’s what I feel like right now.” 

Steve slipped his hand under Peggy’s, he squeezed it gently. A smile spread across his face. 

“You know what Peggy,” he said. “Me too.”


End file.
